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The end of our world is already upon us

We all believe we must occupy every waking moment with stimulation because, damn it, we are the ADD generation.

Civilization as we know it has come to an end. Who needs the Mayans to tell us otherwise?

Dogs are sleeping with cats (check out the YouTube video if you don't believe me). Wrong is now right. And one recent morning, an adorable blue-haired granny presented me with a somewhat withered but erect middle finger.

Why? Well, as we were both moving along on our merry ways during the morning commute, me to her left in a Mercedes-Benz E350 coupe and she to my right in a taupe nondescriptmobile, her attention was glued to a smartphone six inches from her beak rather than to the car stopped six feet from her front bumper . . . !

She looked in time to react, and in so doing she set in motion a series of events that did not need to happen. She pounced on the brakes. Her charming, bouncing granddaughter, who had been frolicking in the back seat—yes, without visible restraint—ping-ponged off the back of the driver's seat and headrest and crumpled unceremoniously to the footwell. Stunned silence was followed by a crying jag. Grandmama showed concern at the girl's predicament, finally putting her phone down and reaching over the seat to calm and reassure the child. Traffic, and she, then started to move again.

That's when I shot Gams a look of extraordinary disapproval and shook my head in disgust. Here was I, chastising a wizened sage! I wagged a finger at her and held up my phone to suggest that, had she been paying attention to driving, her passenger would be in better sorts. She got the hint. I got the bird.

Had this woman carried more speed when she climbed on the brakes, that little gem of her life could well have launched through the windshield. Then where would that have left Mema? Likely in court—not because of her dangerous driving behavior, but engaged in civil litigation hurtling blame at all corporations within range.

I'm at my wits end, and I don't know what to do about it. Daily I see evidence of the ever-diminishing quality of drivers who inhabit our roads. Did this precipitous decline begin with United States' budget cuts and, with it, driver-education classes? Can this fall be marked by the rise of smarter cars and technology aimed at making our lives easier, hence allowing us to abdicate greater responsibility? Or is it simpler? That, yes, we all believe we must occupy every waking moment with stimulation because, damn it, we are the ADD generation and—oh, my, look at what popped up on my Pinterest board . . .

On a recent drive from the East Coast to Detroit, done in just three stops, I didn't once look at my phone. When I got home I had 118 e-mails awaiting me, none of which demanded immediate attention. It makes me wonder how someone else's life can be so important that he must remain attached to his phone.

I long for a simpler time, a disconnected time, a time when we used driving as a cathartic salve. You climb into the car, adjust the mirrors and sit high in the seat, crank the ignition and take a big sigh looking toward hitting the open road. Those were the days of TripTik navigation and playing I Spy, and singing “99 bottles of beer on the wall” to pass the time.

Those were pre-text, pre-Facebook, pre-e-mail days, when communication often meant you actually had to get into your car and drive to speak face-to-face.

Imagine that.

Dutch Mandel
- Dutch Mandel, Autoweek’s editorial director and associate publisher, has been with the company for 29 years. A second-generation car journo, he grew up with exotic cars in the garage. Among his many feats is a chef for a racing team and automotive consultant on the Pixar movie CARS and CARS 2.
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